


Greener (than the green of your eyes)

by PetitLu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Everyone has a little crush on Yuuri, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Gen, I have a Yu2 agenda, Jealous Yuri Plisetsky, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri Plisetsky Has a Crush on Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitLu/pseuds/PetitLu
Summary: Onsen on Ice is happening again, to the dismay of one Yuri Plistesky. Not that he doesn't like being in Hasetsu. It's just... Everybody is so close to Katsudon, is that really necessary?Aka, 4 times Yuri was jealous because of Yuuri and one time he wasn't.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Minami Kenjirou, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, various friendships
Comments: 12
Kudos: 239





	Greener (than the green of your eyes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bearixt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearixt/gifts).



> This fic is a (belated) birthday gift to the most wonderful Bearie, who is my Yu² co-conspirator, and an all around amazing person. Happy birthday lovely, I hope you enjoy this little fic and that it fit what you wanted!  
> I haven't written anything in forever, so I'm sorry this is a bit all over the place, but I tried x). My prompt was "jealous".

1

Minami Kenjirou was over the moon. He had been invited to participate in Onsen on Ice by Katsuki Yuuri himself and he was going to skate with his idol, in a gala. Together. Well, Victor Nikiforov was going to be there as well, and what felt like half the skaters on the senior circuit, but the point remained. He was going to skate next to Yuuri-kun.

He had arrived in Hasetsu two days earlier, and skaters had been trickling in each day. Yuri Plisetsky had been the first one to arrive, on the same day as Kenjirou himself, grumbling all the while about gross old men and maintaining a steady stream of Russian curses whenever Victor Nikiforov was in the room. Kenjirou couldn’t help but notice, though, that the moment Katsuki-kun turned his eyes on Plisetsky, the mumbling lessened significantly and Yuri tended to shake his bangs as if to hide behind them.

Kenjirou could understand that. If he had bangs, the temptation to hide from Yuuri-kun's gaze would probably be too strong to resist. As it was, he was mostly left to make cow eyes (Katsuki Mari’s words, not his) at his idol and drinking in every bit of attention despite twin Russian glares (maybe that was another thing you learnt being Yakov Feltsman’s student) burning into his back every time Yuuri-kun talked to him in rapid, confident Japanese that still, he knew, eluded the Victor and Yuri.

For now, though, he was alone on the beach, Katsuki-kun and Victor having gone to pick up Christophe Giacometti from the train station.

Kenjirou was lost in thought, walking alone the shoreline, when two voices interrupted his musings.

“You know, you don’t have to be so angry at my brother all the time.”

Kenjirou’s English was not the best (yet, he was working on it), but he could understand the conversation well enough.

Angry words followed, too muffled to make out. The laughter that ensued, however, was clear and made Kenjirou laugh as well. He liked Yuri Plisetsky and respected him as a competitor, but he had to admit it was satisfying to hear people teasing him without being intimidated by his loud words and hostile demeanour.

“Yuuri really likes you, you know. Even though you’ve been mean to him.” The voices were getting closer now, and Kenjirou hurried towards the trees, inexplicably reluctant to having the two others notice his presence.

“Katsudon needs the push,” Plisetsky grumbled. “It’s not like I mean it anyway.”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes. Like that excused anything. Yuri Plisetsky, he thought, truly was ungrateful in the face of his own luck. Having the greatest skater of all time and the five-time World Champion’s attention, focused on him completely every time he set foot on the ice, and what was he doing? Shoving them away and yelling, with the occasional reluctant acknowledgment thrown in there.

Katsuki Mari laughed again. “Ah Yurio! You’re lucky my brother is so patient. And Victor, too. Not every man would accept to share his fiancé like that, you know? Especially since half the time, you look at Victor like you want to throw him out the room for just looking at Yuuri.”

Kenjirou couldn’t help but agree. For all his bluster, Yuri Plisetsky was not subtle. Kenjirou didn’t know how many others had noticed, but he was extremely territorial over Yuuri-kun. Truly, a study in contradictions.

He could throw insults and curses at the couple, but every time someone said something slightly disparaging about Yuuri-kun, Plisetsky looked like he was about to bludgeon the offender with his skate-guards. Not that Kenjirou blamed him, not at all. He was glad his idol had such a fierce defender. Even if said defender was an ungrateful Russian teenager with anger issues and skating abilities he must have sold his soul to the devil for.

The sound of the conversation progressively drifted away, and Kenjirou was left alone once more.

He headed back towards the onsen at a sedate pace, trying to contain the excitement at staying at his idol’s childhood house that still hadn’t faded after two days.

Idly, he wondered if Yuri Plisetsky was even aware of his behaviour, or if he just did it out of some weird instinct to protect Yuuri-kun, who according to fans everywhere, was a precious cinnamon roll that needed to be protected at all cost.

***

2

Christophe was tired. A long night with a sick cat followed by a longer flight to Japan would do that. But very little did better at waking him up than teasing Yuuri Katsuki. The man made it too easy, flustered at the slightest flirtation despite having been in a relationship with the flirtiest man alive for over a year. And Victor’s narrowed eyes and slight frown that he was always trying to repress to prevent himself from developing wrinkles were a very welcome bonus. The entire walk from the train station to the Katsuki family’s onsen had been filled by pick-up lines and over the top gestures from Chris, who was greatly enjoying his friends’ reactions.

At the onsen, they were greeted by Yuuri’s parents. Hiroko Katsuki was smiling brightly, and Chris was struck by how similar her smile was to her son’s.

She didn’t speak much English, and Chris’s Japanese was limited at best, but before he knew it, he found himself whisked away to a simple but comfortable room, with what he was pretty sure was an invitation to come get food after he got some sleep.

A quick text to his boyfriend later to assure him he had arrived safely, Chris was collapsing on the bed and drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Loud barking woke him up, followed by Victor’s scolding _Makkachin_ and Yuuri’s laughter.

Christophe got up, still groggy but rested, and decided to go get the food he’d been offered by Yuuri’s mother.

In the dining room, the television was on, a news program playing at a low volume. Yuri Plisetsky was sitting in a corner, looking at his phone with a vindictive look.

Christophe sneaked up next to him, quiet and unnoticed. The teen’s jump as he registered Christophe’s presence was satisfyingly high. Yuuri’s pretty inactive instagram flashed on the phone screen before it went black. Interesting.

Christophe ignored the onslaught of insults directed at him and left again towards one of the tables, where Yuuri’s delightful dance teacher was sitting, yelling something at Yuuri’s father whose only reply seemed to be a serene smile. Chris smothered a laugh before it could escape, thrown back to the interactions between a certain Russian teenager and Yuuri himself. The man truly was similar to his parents, he mused.

He sat down opposite Minako, who had stopped yelling upon his arrival and was now beaming at him.

“Little Yuri looks vicious today, doesn't he,” Chris asked, a glint in his eyes.

“You know something.”

“Oh, but when don’t I?” He winked. Minako did… something, and even though it didn’t look like she’d moved at all, she was now sat next to him. Witchcraft, Christophe was sure.

At her insistent looks, he took out his phone with a flourish and opened Yuuri’s Instagram. The account, just like most of Yuuri’s social medi&, was the result of a collaboration between Victor and Phichit Chulanont, who had made it their mission to increase Yuuri’s online presence and “feed the starving fans”.

Under the latest post – a video of Yuuri practicing a bit of choreography for the upcoming ice show – three dots were moving and a message read “Yuri Plisetsky is typing a comment.

Chris threw Minako a smug look.

They both leaned towards the phone, scrolling through comments. A lot were gushing about Yuuri’s skating, a few were congratulating Victor on his excellent taste in fiancé, and… There. The unavoidable antis that seemed attracted to Yuuri like flies to honey.

Their comments ranged from insults about his looks to disparaging remarks about his skating, and of course there were the usual die-hard Victor Nikiforov fans and Yuri’s Angels who still hadn’t realised that if there was one thing the two Russians agreed on, it was that no one insulted Yuuri Katsuki without suffering the consequences.

And in the middle of all of the hate, they could see Yuri’s scathing replies. He had started at least three fights – that he was apparently winning, the kid was truly creative in his insults for a non-native English speaker - and was in the process of reminding his own fans that any of them that insulted other skaters – Jean-Jacques Leroy notwithstanding – could forget ever getting anything from him other than utter contempt. Christophe had to give it to him, he was being surprisingly eloquent and mature in managing his rabid fans.

Minako smiled, and Christophe shivered. The woman was mildly scary on her best days – not that he minded – but her anger was something that could make grown men cry.

“Good boy,” she declared, voice heavy with approval.

Before Christophe could add anything, Yuuri and Victor entered the room and sat next to them. Christophe could feel more than see Yuri’s attention snapping away from his phone and towards their table. He smothered a smile.

Mari Katsuki brought food to the table and pushed it towards him.

As he ate, the discussion around him started flowing but Yuri still remained in his corner. Silly child, Christophe thought. As if it weren’t obvious to everyone that the teen craved Victor and Yuuri’s attention. He might as well own up to it and join the group. Christophe wondered what it would take.

Experimentally, he leaned across the table to whisper in Yuuri’s ear, making sure that he was in full view of Yuri’s side of the room. He did once, twice and… There it was. A grumpy Yuri appeared in the corner of his eye, and Christophe was not-too-kindly pushed aside. He winked at Yuuri as the teenager sat down, pointedly putting himself between Christophe and his friend.

Ah, to be young and predictable again. He could hear Minako snorting into her beer. Amused, he went back to his food and turned towards her.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” he purred.

She just smirked and nodded, sipping at her drink with a satisfied look on her face.

***

3

Katsuki Hiroko liked having her son’s friends over at the onsen. They were loud, and communication was not always easy, but she could see how happy it made Yuuri and Victor.

Standing at the entrance of the dining room, she felt a wave of fondness wash over her. Her son had done well for himself, she thought. When he had left to pursue his dreams, she’d never doubted he would reach his goals, but seeing him surrounded by laughter and friendship, his fiancé’s arm draped around his shoulders while he was happily chatting with his best friend filled her with incommensurable joy and pride.

Her husband’s soft steps echoed behind her, and she turned to look at him. Even after so many years, she still felt helplessly fond and endeared when she saw him, always handsome and so, so gentle. His eyes crinkled.

“You’re happy,” he declared. Not a question. She nodded. “I’m so proud of him. Not for the skating, though that too.” She nodded again. He understood. She turned back towards the room, letting Toshiya join the group.

A soft laugh drew her attention to her son once more. He was smiling at Yurio and Hiroko could feel her own mouth stretching. They were very cute, these two. Despite his maturity and fierce desire to be independent, Yuuri had remained a little brother at heart. But seeing him with Yurio, it reminded Hiroko of how Mari used to be back when her brother was a teenager. Smiling at his tantrums but always patient. Teasing, but kind.

Now, Yurio was laughing with Yuuri, and he looked so young. He had too much worry in his eyes, Hiroko always thought. For his future, for his grandfather, for his friends – even though he tried to hide it – and it made him look older. Now though, with her son’s full attention on him, he was every bit the teenager he was supposed to be, a rosy flush on his pale cheeks, eyes sparkling with mirth, laughter ringing through the room.

Yes, she laughed to herself, they really were cute. Victor poked his head between the two and started babbling enthusiastically at Yuuri, his smile blinding and his voice loud over the chatter.

Yurio, true to himself, tried to push him away, with only a moderate amount of success Hiroko suspected was more due to Victor indulging him than anything else.

Yurio probably knew it too, given the – she assumed – cutting remark he threw at his teammate.

He was trying his best to ignore Victor and continue his conversation with Yuuri. A giggle escaped Hiroko. Her son was loved, and she was glad.

She headed towards them, diverting Victor’s attention. The man started talking to her, his Japanese still slow and flawed but enthusiastic and improving the more he talked. She was proud of him too. He’d been so sad, before he and Yuuri had come to their senses.

She had noticed, before he was more than a face frozen on her son’s walls, pale and perfect, that his smile had waned. At World’s the season when Yuuri came back, she had watched him smile with his teeth out and his eyes dead, and her heart had broken a little for the man she had never met but felt like she knew.

Now though, Victor smiled with his whole body, eyes shining, posture relaxed, and he looked at Hiroko’s son like he had hung the stars in the sky. He had come a long way.

They all had, the three people in front of her. She nodded at Victor, interjecting a word here and there but happy to let him carry most of the conversation.

She glanced at Yurio, and was not surprised to get a grateful look before both of them turned their attention back to their conversation partner.

***

4

Happiness was not a natural state for Victor Nikiforov. He wasn’t used to the constant warm feeling Yuuri brought with him. Every morning he spent waking up next to his fiancé (his fiancé!), watching his dishevelled hair, his smooth skin often marred by a few bruises and bites, his soft eyes, Victor was surprised all over again to be capable of feeling that kind of happiness. That morning was no different.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes, still sleepy, and looked at him. Victor felt sharp satisfaction at the idea that this, seeing that wonderful man that kept himself locked behind so many walls, was his privilege and his alone.

“Victoru…” Yuuri sighed. Ah, he was so cute in the morning, his accents stretching his vowels, yawns interrupting every other word.

“I’ll start getting ready, okay?” Victor replied. “But you can stay in bed for another… thirty minutes. After that, we need to eat breakfast and meet Yuuko at Ice Castle.”

From under the covers that had been pulled back, messy hair the only thing still visible, came a muffled agreement.

Victor padded around the room, picking up clothes that had gotten discarded last night and pulling them on as fast as he could. Once he was decent, he slipped out of their room and headed towards the kitchen.

On the way, he encountered Yurio, who seemed to be eagerly waiting for someone (Otabek. Victor was sure it was Otabek) to show up.

It was sweet, Victor had to admit, but he wasn’t sure if he approved of the man. He had talked with Nikolai, and they both agreed that while he looked like a nice boy, he was a bit too fond of leather jackets and motorcycles for Yura, who was still very much a baby.

Victor peered at the boy from under his bangs.

“Aaaah Yurio, waiting for someone?” he sing-songed. Surprisingly, Victor got no reaction. Disappointing. Worrying, too. Yura usually never missed an occasion to yell at Victor, and his silence right now was not a good indicator.

“Go away old man, go bother Katsudon. And hide your gross neck, I need eye bleach.”

Ah, there it was. It had taken a bit more time, and it was more sedate than what Victor was used to, but it was enough to alleviate his worry. He glanced down at his collarbone, going cross-eyed in the process, and was greeted by a purple circle on the edge of his vision. He refrained from winking. Despite what people – Yakov – liked to say, he knew when to be appropriate. A lot of the time, he just chose to ignore it.

Hiroko greeting somebody a few rooms over had Yura perking up. Interesting. Victor, pushed out by his teammate, left the room.

Yuuri’s little fanboy – not that Victor blamed him, his fiancé was amazing and it just proved the boy had taste – passed him by, headed towards the room Yura was in, a heavy looking binder in his arm. Not Otabek then.

Victor felt curious. He didn’t know what these two had to talk about, but it was sure to be fascinating.

He slowed his pace before stopping at the end of the corridor, and listened intently. Mari, also passing by, towels in her arms, nodded at his shushing gesture and stopped as well.

“I only brought the Japan-exclusive releases.” Minami’s voice. Victor had an idea of what had been in that binder and he felt giddy. Yurio would kill him if he mentioned it, Victor thought gleefully.

“That’s bullshit, how do you guys get so much awesome merch,” they heard him grumble.

Victor couldn’t help but agree. If this really was what Victor thought it was, then Yurio was right; his fiancé had fans everywhere, but most of his merch was limited to Japan and Victor had spent way too much time on auction websites tracking down posters, photocards and calendars that were unavailable to international audience.

“I sorted through mine, and I have a few duplicates,” they heard Minami say. “What the hell,” Mari mouthed. Victor just winked.

“Wait, can I take a picture?” Victor didn’t think he’d ever heard Yura sound so eager.

“I’m very lucky to have that one, Katsuki-kun did not want that picture to be used. He said he really didn’t like that program.”

Victor wondered which picture he was referring to. To his knowledge, Yuuri had a lot of pictures he wished had never been released. A shame, really. He’d have to ask Minami sometime.

“The fuck, how do you even have this. I thought they didn’t sell anything from that season.”

Ah. That one. He understood where Yuuri was coming from. His fiancé was wonderful in all things, but like every other skaters, he had a few aesthetic choices that were best left in the past. However, he thought, any picture of Yuuri was by default precious, and deserved to be cherished.

The grumbling continued. “I’m going to move to Japan, I swear. This is so unfair.” Mari had finally understood what the two boys were talking about, and was now openly, though silently, laughing.

“I can send you alerts when new stuff releases! And if there’s something you want, I can get it for you and we can sort it out at competitions.” There was a pause. “I mean, you know, like,” Minami stammered. “I know what you mean,” Yuri said gruffly. “I’d appreciate it,” he continued in a softer tone.

Victor and Mari decided to take their leave. They’d heard enough to tease Yurio (and Yuuri) for the foreseeable future, and they had things to do anyway. They chuckled as they walked, and exchanged a knowing look when they parted ways.

Victor walked towards the kitchen almost dancing, knowing that the love of his life was waiting in their room (their room!) and they were going to skate together tonight.

***

\+ 1

The ice show had gone well. A few technical missteps, for sure, but Nishigori’s prompt intervention had prevented the audience from noticing. The atmosphere in Ice Castle was festive, the audience slowly trickling out, waiting at the entrance in hopes of getting an autograph or a photo. 

Yuri was still sweaty and gross, but he was also feeling warm and fuzzy, as he often did after a good performance – not that anybody knew that. His grandfather, who had watched the livestream, had called him the minute he stepped off the ice to tell him how proud he was, how elegant his grandson was out there on the ice, and Yuri would never admit it but his eyes had gone a bit glassy.

Katsudon was talking with Chulanont a few metres ahead, his smile bright and sincere. Yuri felt himself staring, but didn’t stop. Some things you didn’t look away from.

He was waiting for Beka anyway, not like he had anywhere else to go right now. Nevermind that Beka had said he would help stay behind to help Nishigori instead of coming back tomorrow morning for the big clean up.

“Yurio!” he called. Yuri felt his stupid, stupid heart twinge.

“Katsudon,” he replied, voice even. It had taken a lot of effort to keep it that way.

In an unexpected and unusual display, Katsudon threw an arm around Yuri’s shoulder.

“You were wonderful tonight Yurio! I’m looking forward to competing with you next season.”

 _With you_. Not _against you._ Yuri didn’t know how he felt about that.

An arm wrapped around his shoulder from the other side. “Ah Yurio, I’m so proud! I’ve taught you well.”

Yuri refrained from punching Victor, not wanting to make the man’s fiancé sad.

Yuuri’s disappointed looks every time he pushed Victor away should be forbidden by some kind of law, Yuri had decided.

“Victor,” Yuuri chided. “Don’t listen to him Yurio, you’ve improved so much and it wasn’t thanks to him. But he’s right, we are proud of you.”

Yuri couldn’t contain his blush at that. He’d heard that sentence a few times tonight, and yet…

As he walked away, sandwiched between the two idiots, he felt the corners of his mouth lift, unbidden. The beaming smile he got in return was so bright Yuri wondered if he should be looking at it directly.

His shoulders relaxed, and the frown that almost never left his face faded.

They walked down the hill, towards the onsen, and Yuri thought to himself that for once, he felt completely happy.

***

BONUS:

Yuri’s phone chimed, and he ignored Yakov’s angry reminders that phones were forbidden during practice. He rushed towards the wall and opened the notification that had popped up on the screen.

 _Which ones do you want,_ the message read, followed by four pictures.

 _All of them,_ Yuri replied in a rush. _I can give you the money at NHK._

_Noted! I’ll have them then. Do your best at training in the meantime, Yurio!_

Yuri sighed. How Mari had gotten that stupid nickname to stick he didn’t know/. Minami was alright though, even if he still wouldn’t call him by his name.

He rubbed his hands happily, skating back towards a worryingly purple Yakov. Posters were on the way and he was going to crush Katsudon at their next competition.

Things were as they should be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end of this (very messy) story!  
> And thank you Bearie for doing this exchange with me, I had so much fun and I hope you did as well <3.  
> Title of the fic is modified from a line in "Plus bleu que tes yeux" by Aznavour and Edith Piaf that goes "more blue, than the blue of your eyes." This song has nothing to do with the fic, but I thought it sounded cool and also, green, jealousy, Yuri's eyes...


End file.
